Pieces of Me
by criesofthefallen
Summary: AU.One-shot. Sam is trying to keep Dean from going to hell, but Azazel is gone and Dean doesn't seem to care. SLASH HPxSN
1. Chapter 1

Pieces of Me

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Both HP and SN belong to other people, sadly. This is **slash** so back up if you don't like.

**Past**

He walked across the street and entered the coffee shop that had his name written all over it. Damm if he wasn't getting his daily fix before he moved on. The cafe was slightly crowded, the rich aroma of coffee in the air, the locals talking to one another, the passerby's sitting in some corner all alone. He briefly wondered if he looked like that much of a loser everywhere he went?

"What can I get for you?" Dean turned with a smile and a witty comment on his lips. He stopped short and stared. "Sir?" the soft voice said. Blushing slightly, "Uhhh, yeah. An expresso double shot...please." He added as an afterthought. The green eyed beauty smiled brightly, making his heart stop for a second. "Coming right up!" green eyes exclaimed brightly. Watching him walk away, Dean wondered what was wrong with him. Shaking his head, he tried to dispel all thoughts of the green eyed man from his head. His coffee was brought by a petit brunette with brown eyes, a girl. Looking around he saw the beautiful man across the shop from him, sitting on the lap of some blonde guy. Feeling a tightening in his chest, he pushed the feeling aside and picked up his coffee, making his way out of the shop.

Green eyes watched him leave curiously, "Those eyes...they seem so familiar,"he whispered to himself. 'Hmmm its probably nothing...'

**Present**

Dean made his way inside the bar and sat at a table towards the back, making note of all exits and potential threats. He motioned for a waitress and ordered a double shot of tequila. Sam joined him and looked at him curiously and somewhat warily. It wasn't everyday Dean acted, well, sentimental. Something was going on with Dean and he wondered how _long_ something had been wrong. He felt the stirrings of guilt and felt his mood drop.

Dean looked over at Sam and wondered what the hell he was thinking, he did not need some chick flick moment anytime soon. Hell, he was never up for them but tonight was just one of _those _nights, and this dammed hunt had taken a lot of him. Dreamwalking into Bobby's head had seemed like a good idea at the time, but it turned out to be the biggest mistake he'd made in a long time. The only upside was saving Bobby. Damm, he needed to get drunk, _now._ "See ya Sammy, I'm about to get me some," he said with a wink and smile, just for show.

Watching his brother walk away, Sam felt confused. He thought something was wrong with Dean, but it seemed like it was just in passing. He thought there was something more but maybe it wasn't. Sam sighed. He was used to doubting himself, but never with Dean. Dammit, he knew his brother and something was wrong. He was going to get to the bottom of this.

**Past**

He sat on a bench looking out at city below him, thinking. If Dean was honest with himself, he was tired of the life he lived. Tired of hunting evil. Tired of living only so he could kill the thing that killed his mom. Sure he loved his mother, but she had been gone longer that she had been around. If his dad knew what he had been thinking as of late, he'd disown him. Heh, like he was much of a father anyways. Dad was all he had left, Sammy had left him for school and a normal life. Normal. How overrated. Yet, there he was, sitting on some bench, in some random city, thinking about what normal would be like. Maybe he should try normal for a while? He tensed when he heard labored breathing and the crunch of footsteps on gravel and dirt, hand going to his gun.

Harry sprinted towards the top, lungs burning. He ran faster up the hill wanting this whole bloody thing to be over with. He hated running with a passion. What was the point in running? It was so boring, but there he was running like the hounds of hell were on his back. The reason being he was thinking about his past and his past should be kept under lock and key, forgotten in the dusty, unvisited corners of his mind. Yep. That's exactly where his past belonged. Running helped him empty his head of all thoughts, which was good for his health but it sucked for his health. Yeah, yeah, it made sense to him. Reaching the top he stopped short as he saw the shadow of a man on his bench. The stranger shifted slightly and the light from the lamp-post illuminated his figure. "Oh!" He said surprised. It was the man from his shop, from a few weeks before. Smiling he stepped forward, somewhat hesitantly.

**Present**

He pushed into the nameless woman he'd picked up for the night. He felt all his anger and frustration leak out of him as he pounded into her, mindless of any bruises or if she was enjoying it too. He felt some sort of gratification but he felt dirty and guilty more than anything. Lately, he couldn't pull of the careless, I-don't-give-a-fuck attitude he wore like an armor. He was slipping and Sam could see through the cracks. That was not good, it wasn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to be stronger than this, than everything so he could _protect_ Samy, not worry him. He was dammed either way and failing again was not an option. Not now, not ever. He needed to get his shit together and if it meant more sex, then he'd pour all of his frustrations on them, the women of the world who only wanted release. Just a quick fuck, nice, and meaningless.

Green eyes and a smile like the sun filled him with warmth, safety, and love. He growled half in agony and half in frustration. He would not think of him, wouldn't taint his memory like that. He let go of everything and started up with the girl again. He would not think of those eyes or that smile again. He would _not._

Sam sat on the bed in their motel room and looked at the clock on the nightstand. Normally he'd trust Dean to be careful and take care of himself but lately nothing had been normal with Dean. It was as if he was breaking before his eyes and it was killing Sam to see his brother that way. The look in Dean's eyes terrified Sam. It was as if Dean had given up and was just living through the motions until his soul was sent to hell. He wouldn't let Dean go to hell, especially not because of him. More than that, he could see pain-raw, earth shattering pain. He couldn't believe he'd never seen it before. It was like he was always so caught up in his own problems, his own pain, that he was blind to everything and everyone else. He needed to find out what was wrong with Dean. 'Even if it means invading his privacy?' He looked over at the drawer in between his bed and Dean's. Walking over, he opened the drawer and pulled out the beautifully carved music box out. He hesitated for a moment, unsure if this was worth losing Dean's trust. Steeling his resolve, he took a shuddering breath and opened the box.

"What?"

**Past**

Dean drove up the drive way and smiled as white and black blurs attached to his side. Smiling he bent and scratched both mutts behind the ear and below the chin, respectively, just where his pups liked it. He looked up at the creaking of a door and felt a sense of relief and happiness fill him. He sighed happily, taking his green eyed lover in his arms and kissing him on the lips. _Warmth. Safety. Home._ He'd never felt this way before, and he knew deep in his heart and his soul that he'd never feel this way again. Walking up the stairs to their home, he wondered what he'd done to deserve this much bliss and happiness. He wasn't worth much, not very bright, and he was always failing his Dad. Some days he felt it was all some twisted dream, something he'd created just so he wouldn't break. Because he knew that Harry was worth the world and deserved someone far better than him and it was only a matter of time before his love realized it. His smile dimmed and became sad. It didn't matter because he loved Harry, and if it made him happy? Damm right he would let his green eyes go. Because Harry was his world and without him in his life, Dean would just be an empty shell walking. But he'd be happy for him. When the day came he would be, but for now, he'd enjoy having him at his side. Basking in the love and warmth he offered.

"Your doing it again..."Harry said softly, sadness tinting his voice. Dean's thoughts scattered seeing the sadness in those bright emerald eyes, dimmed with sadness. "What?" He responded. "You're thinking that you not good enough for me and that I'll leave you. Right?" Dean looked away and didn't respond. He startled as he fell and landed on the couch. Harry climbed onto his lap, straddling him. Looking into his eyes he could see love unlike any other, he felt happy, content. "I love you and only you. If it takes the rest of our lives to prove it then I'll happily oblige. There will never be another for me Dean, ever." Harry kissed him softly, and Dean swore he could feel his love wrap around him, in him, in his very soul. It was moments like these he could believe what he said was true. Harry pulled away and smiled softly, "Come on you big lug, I need to feed you before you run off again!"

Dean laughed as his little love pulled him into the dinning room, letting his hand go to sit down. He stopped him and pulled him onto his lap as he sat down, holding him close. Rich laughter filled the room as Harry settled into his arms. The warmth of the fireplace chased away the chill and the wine made him heady with warmth and passion. He burned for his love and breathing in his scent he couldn't help but think, _this is where I belong._

**Present**

Dean felt his breath catch in his throat, tears filled his vision and pain laced through his very being. How dare, how dare that son of a bitch do this. "Dean? Dean love? Are you okay?DEAN!" He shut the phone and let his head fall against the steering wheel of his baby. Tears streamed down his face and his breathing became labored as pain clouded him and gripped him tightly. He didn't move from there for some time. It wasn't until his phone rang again that he tensed, "Dean? Where are you man? I think I found something." He felt something inside him breathe and answered shakily, "Yeah Sammy, I'm on my way." Sam must have heard something in his voice because Dean had to hang up on him and his questions of,_ are you okay?_ No, he wasn't okay. He didn't think he'd be okay for a long time after this. They needed to get rid of whatever this thing was and leave as soon as possible. Running was one of the thing he was good at. God, ask Kira, she'd tell you a thing or two.

Sam waited impatiently for Dean to get back to the motel. He had yet to confront Dean about the music box and the contents of the box. He needed to get himself together and figure things out. He only wished he wasn't being such a coward and taking his sweet ass time. Dammit, they were running out of time to get Dean out of the deal he'd made and Sam was almost to the point of killing himself from stress, and lying to Dean? Nope. It wasn't helping. He looked up as Dean came in, putting the bags of food he was carrying down on the table. "Dean..." he began as he often did when he wanted to talk to Dean about things, voice all soft and a bit girly if he was honest. But feelings weren't something you got Dean to talk about without some serious ammo. Lucky, or unlucky, for him, he had some ammo. Well, maybe.

"Dean, we need to talk." Dean looked over at Sam and gave him one of his patented, oh-god-not-another-chick-flick-moment, looks. Sam stood up and walked over to the table, sitting across from Dean. Silence stretched between them awkwardly. "Well? Come on Princess, we don't have all day..." Dean said, heavy on the sarcasm.

Sam took a deep breath and looked Dean in the eyes, "Dean..." Irritated, Dean looked back, "Yes?"

"Who is Harry?"

**Past**

He woke slowly and blinked as the rays of the sun hit his face. Rolling over he looked at the clock and stretched, slowly and lazily. He looked around and frowned as he saw his green eyes missing. He gripped the sheets and felt the warmth coming from them. It hadn't been long then, since Harry had gotten up. He got up and planted his feet firmly on the ground. Something didn't feel quite right. Mornings were filled with soft sizzling from the kitchen and the harmonizing voices of his love and Kira as they sang this song or the other. The house was still, silent. He felt his heart constrict as thousands of thoughts raced through his head. He reached under his pillow for his gun and made his way to the door, silently he stalked the halls and found nothing. He had checked every room except the Den. He made his way over slowly and reaching the doors, he pulled one open slowly and,

"SURPRISE!" His heart nearly jumped out of his chest and he blinked slowly as he looked around at the people gathered in the room, one green eyed beauty in particular. He walked forward slowly and could feel the uncertainty and tension in the room, the once smiling face dimmed as he got closer. Harry looked back at him with those big green eyes of his and he felt himself melt. Kissing him softly he pulled back, "Thank you." He said softly and taking that as their cue, their friends cheered and pulled him this way and that, wishing him a happy birthday. Looking over at his little love, his Harry, he saw him smiling, glowing brighter than the sun. Meeting his eyes he excused himself and met Harry half way. Wrapping his eyes around the smaller male, he pulled him close, feeling the sappy smile on his face. The love and content flowing through him made him feel, well, _happy._ There was a flash of light and blinking he looked to the side to see Kira waving a camera around cheerfully, "Need some pictures, you know, to remember this day even when you two are grey and old!" Laughing she bounced up to them and gave them a peck on the cheek before bouncing off to take more pictures. "Gotta love her, right?" tilting his head to the side, a halo of sunshine making him glow, Dean smiled and thought that, yes, he did love the girl. The sister he never had. "But I love you more." The soft hue of red on those porcelain cheeks made something stir within him and leering, he kissed his love breathless.

Dean and Harry left the party to make a party of their own. When they came back it was in the afternoon and their friends greeted them with whistles and cat calls, teasing Harry until his little love hid his face in his chest. All in all, it was the _best_, and the first, birthday ever. This was a day he would never forget. Looking around him,at his friends, and at his love, he thought that it was time to let go of hunting. Dean Winchester would hunt no more. He had something to live for, someone to come home to, and he was never giving that up.

**Present**

Dean lunged at Sam and held him by his shirt, "What did you just say?" He said fury, rage, lacing his every breath. Sam looked at Dean with surprise and a small hint of fear. "I just, I just asked who Harry is?" It ended up coming out more as a question than anything. Dean looked at Sam for what seemed like an eternity before pushing him hard, making Sam fall to the floor. He stormed toward the door, hesitated then turned back. "He was the love of my life...and you will _never_ bring him up again." He turned back towards the door and slammed the door as he left. A few minutes later, Sam could hear the roar of the Impala and then nothing. He let himself fall against the floor and looked at the ceiling, counting cracks. He had a feeling he had screwed up, that something big had just happened between them. Something had broken and he thought he knew what. Trust.

**Past**

He winced as he stitched his wound close, relief flooding him as he thought of the potions waiting for him at home. Kira's talents in potions was truly a God-send. His girl made some kick-ass healing salves. And Harry's cooking was like heaven after a long stay in hell. He needed to tell his father he was quitting, but it was hard. Despite how his father had always favored Sam, he felt that he was abandoning his father, even if his father had abandoned him first. Sighing he cleaned up the mess he'd made and grabbed his bags. After checking out he got onto his baby and headed back home, to Harry. He smiled at the thought and frowned as his phone rang, his father's name popping on the screen. The last thing he needed was another hunt, he had been out hunting for _three weeks_. Sighing he picked up, "Dad?"

John Winchester was a formidable man, good at what he did, and he knew that his son was hiding something from him, something big. "The yellow eyed bastard has made his move again, I need you to check out the body since you're closer and will actually be able to see the scene." Dean kept himself from saying something, he was only an hour away from home and he didn't want to turn back when he was so _close_. But he knew how important this was for his father. "Where am I going?" A bit of irritation lacing his voice.

"Santa Clara, California."

He felt his heart drop and struggled to get control of his car. He had never believed in God, had never prayed to him before. _'Please God, please. Let it be anyone else but him.'_

_**Present**_

He walked along the pier and chugged another beer as he came to the end the bridge, sitting on the ledge. He opened another beer and braced his elbows on his knees, looking out at the setting sun. The beauty of it all escaped him as he thought over the ending of what he believed would be the rest of his life. Amazing friends, beautiful home._ The love of his life._ What had he been thinking? That he could just leave? A bitter smile covered his face. Of course not. Hunting was like the mafia. Once you're in, you can never get out. It was blood in, blood out.

He had been so deliriously happy and in love, and in the end? He had lost it all. He had lost _him_. The fucking son of a bitch had taken the only person he had called his, the only person he had ever loved. He could remember the grief, the sheer rage that stemmed from his very core. The only reason he had continued on that god forsaken mission to kill the Azazel was because he had taken his little love. His green eyes. _His Harry_.

Harry deserved so much better. He deserved a long, happy life. And Dean had killed him. He had taken someone as pure and wonderful as Harry and he had killed him. It might not have been his hand that tore his body to shreds. It might not have been him that raped Harry. But it might as well have been. He could remember getting out of his car and walking over to the parking lot slowly, pushing past the crowd. He remembered officers trying to hold him back, flashing them his badge, them asking his interest in the case,_ "not your jurisdiction"._ He walked past them and stopped short of what was left of his love, he wanted to deny it, deny it was him. But it was Harry. The only part of him that was left untouched, his eyes, his beautiful green eyes glazed with death. Looking back at him accusingly. He remembered the tightening in his chest, the hollow, empty feeling in his chest, the helplessness. He broke down and everything else faded into a blur. There was nothing for him to hold onto. Not his hand, not head, not anything. _Breathing hurt_.

Every heartbeat felt like a stab to the chest. Every word felt meaningless. Every day felt like hell on earth. He was broken, empty. Then, he was furious. Rage filled him and rage fueled him. He would kill Azazel, even if he had to sell his soul to do it. That was all that mattered and that was all that was left. Then rage became grief and grief became sadness. Then he just turned numb. Azazel was dead. Gone. It felt like he had no reason again, he was just lost.

When Dean went back to the motel and Sam told him he knew what the thing was, impersonating loved ones who were dead, they went to do their jobs and Harry was never mentioned again.

And when Dean saw the hellhounds coming for him, ready to tear him to shreds, he let out a bitter laugh. The last thing he saw before hell were dancing emerald eyes and a smile like the sun, filling him with warmth, safety, and love. Tears fell from his eyes, knowing they would never be together again.

Angels couldn't enter hell.


	2. Chapter 2

Hello everyone,

Thank you for all the reviews, they were great!

This story was a one-shot but I am doing a companion piece called _Shards of Glass_, which will be a two-piece. Thank you for all the support.

CriesOfTheFallen


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